


A Stupid Bet: Part 1

by Form_Voretron



Series: A Stupid Bet [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Vore, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 09:37:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12010020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Form_Voretron/pseuds/Form_Voretron
Summary: The team learns that pitting Lance and Keith's egos against each other can only ever have disastrous consequences.





	A Stupid Bet: Part 1

The Castle’s bridge was remarkably quiet, or rather, it was bereft of the chaos and mayhem that was oft to occur on the bridge. Day and night were redundant concepts in space, but Allura and Coran had called it a day and retired for a few hours. The only two familiar faces on the bridge presently were Pidge and Hunk. One paladin filled the relative hush with the sounds of quick typing as she toyed with castle’s software interface, while Hunk broke the calm with his heavy footfalls, not to mention the worried noises that occasionally escaped his lips.

“They’ve both been in there for hours,” he said nervously, turning his attention towards Pidge, “Do you think I should check on them? I think I’m gonna go check on them.”

“Sure,” Pidge replied, albeit without glancing up from the software, “Keith and Lance are probably embroiled in the worst food fight to have occurred since we got here, but if you’re that desperate to get doused in food, then be my guest.”

A long pause quickly followed as Hunk anxiously glanced at the large sliding doors that led through to the dining hall. He nervously wrung his hands together and even tried to distract himself by looking at whatever it was that Pidge was doing, but always found his gaze returning to those large doors.

“I just… I don’t get why they’re taking so long,” Hunk cried, “They should’ve finished by now, or at least have gotten so sick that they’d have to call it quits!” Hunk didn’t like to imply that his own cooking could render someone ill, but he had cooked a lot.

Pidge tutted. “I think you mentioning an eating competition was a bad move to start with. You know what those two are like when bets are involved. You’re right about one thing, though; they’ve both probably made themselves sick. I wouldn’t be surprised if they both need a trip to the healing pods.”

This, naturally, did not improve Hunk’s mood at all. The large man began to pace nervously, only for Pidge to chide him for being distracting. A few minutes passed as Hunk stared at the door, willing it to open, before he stood up with an exasperated gasp.

“That’s it! I’m going to check on them,” he decided. He began to march forward with a sense of purpose.

“Bring me something back, if there is anything to bring back. Preferably something that Keith hasn’t thrown at Lance!” Pidge shouted over her shoulder. She turned back to her programming, while Hunk began to cross the room.

As he did, Hunk wondered what could possibly have gone awry. Had he perhaps seasoned the starters with too much spice? Had he not managed to create a harmonious balance of both heavy and light dishes, resulting in some gastric woes for both Keith and Lance? His reputation as a chef was at stake! His mind raced and raced, so much so that Hunk barely even registered that the large doors were opening, seemingly of their own accord. He stopped, blinked in surprise, and dropped his gaze to stare at the single figure that stood at the threshold of the doors. He couldn’t make out who the individual was just yet, but such considerations were overshadowed by the fact that there should have been two of them!

Any such concern was overshadowed yet again, as a rattling belch echoed from the figure at the door. The walls of the bridge provided the perfect surface for the gastric noise to bounce from, creating the impression that the loud burp had lasted longer than it truly had. Hunk blinked in shock, while Pidge turned to glance back, away from her programming.

“Uh, so that was almost impressive…” she drawled, while the figure stepped into the room proper. The blue highlight on the paladin suit and the tanned complexion quickly identified the person as the pilot of the blue lion, and he wore a broad grin on his lips.

“So! Who’s looking for this year’s winner of our annual eating competition!? Because you’re looking at him!” Lance exclaimed proudly, lifting a hand to point at himself with his thumb. He held a pink milkshake in his other hand. His broad smirk quickly evened out into something more neutral, which verged on perturbed. “Why are you both looking at me like that?”

Perhaps Lance didn’t realise the gravity of the situation, but perhaps he hadn’t had an opportunity to look in a mirror, either. The guy’s slender physique had been transformed into something far more shocking, as it looked like he had tucked a medicine ball underneath his paladin suit, or swallowed one. Nor was the thing especially quiet, either, as it glworped and churned as if it were working overtime, cutting across the quiet of the bridge with far more success than Hunk or Pidge. He lifted the milkshake to his lips to loudly suck on the straw.

Pidge and Hunk both stammered, although it was Hunk who finally broke the silence, his eyes set on the round belly that almost seemed to wobble and groan of its own accord. He blinked in surprise as Lance’s hand abruptly fell upon it, landing with a meaty slap that caused a resounding wobble to ripple across the surface of his belly.

“It’s-… It’s just that, we thought, maybe you and Keith got into some trouble, we nearly came to check on you both,” Hunk said, before he looked over at Pidge and then back to Lance, “Well, I nearly did.”

It seemed like the opportunity to continue talking about the contest improved Lance’s mood again, as confusion quickly gave way to a fresh wave of enthusiasm. His lips split into a large grin again. The fact that he had earned some wicked boasting rights was great, but the fact that he had won over Keith boosted his mood immeasurably. 

“Oh, yeah! To be honest, I really had to dig deep towards the end. Find some inner grit that I didn’t even know I had, but here I am! So if we tally the scores, I think that leaves me with a resounding ‘one’, and Keith with a huge ‘zilch’!” Lance snickered, very pleased, and allowed a hand to idly reach down to rub over the surface of his belly.

“Lance. Your stomach is moving.”

The observation cut across everything. Lance stopped grinning and Hunk simply froze – even the air inside the bridge seemed to have become even more still. In fact, the only thing that continued to move was, as Pidge observed, Lance’s stomach. It wasn’t entirely obvious, but the guy’s stomach was definitely disturbed by the occasional jostle, that seemed to come from within. Lance was now wearing a different kind of grin; an anxious one, and small beads of sweat had begun to form across his brow.

“W-What..? No it isn’t…” he stammered, his hand settled upon his rounded belly as if to try and force it to remain still. Hunk had leaned forward, holding his chin in his hand.

“Now that Pidge mentions it, it does look kind of animated…”

“G-Guys! It’s not moving!”

“We’ve clarified that it definitely is,” Pidge interjected factually, “So are you going to tell us what happened? Or where Keith is, for that matter?”

A pause followed, and Lance clearly seemed to be weighing his possibilities. He seemed torn between insisting that his anatomy was perfectly fine, thank you very much, or opening up about whatever had happened inside the privacy of the dining room. He seemed to resign himself to the fact that tricking Pidge was not going to be a possibility. At least, not an easy one.

“Okay, okay,” Lance replied, holding his free hand up as if in defence. He paused again, unaware that the removal of his hand from his stomach had allowed his stomach to jostle about anew. How the fabric of the paladin suit hadn’t torn already was a mystery.

“…Well?” Pidge urged.

“Right, so… basically… I think that Hunk – and this ain’t a criticism, buddy – maybe gave us some food that was a little over seasoned. I mean, some of this alien stuff can really disagree with a guy!”

“…And what about Keith?” 

“What about him?”

“Where is he?”

“Oh! Hah! Well, I guess he was so humiliated at having lost that he stormed back to his room. Y’know how that guy gets like when he loses a bet.”

“I knew I added too much space paprika to that soup!” Hunk exclaimed, slamming his fist into his palm.

“Except you didn’t make any soup. Nor did you make anything especially spicy, from what I can remember,” Pidge reminded Hunk. The larger paladin blinked.  


“Oh. Yeah.” 

A quiet standoff soon followed. Nobody spoke a word, although it was obvious that both Hunk and Pidge were waiting for an explanation. Lance tried to disguise the loud churning of his stomach by slurping loudly on the milkshake he had brought with him, but the gesture only made his apparent guilt even more obvious.

“So, are you going to tell us what really happened?” Pidge finally asked, breaking the silence. Lance appeared frustrated, and even seemed to be looking around for some kind of escape, as if he could even think about running in his present state. Another long silence followed.

“Okay, fine! But you have to promise that neither of you are going to overreact!” He exclaimed, Hunk and Pidge stared on as Lance seemed to struggle with how to begin. He eventually cleared his throat.

“So, Keith and I were getting to the end of Hunk’s food, and we were neck and neck! So Keith turns to me and says, ‘Hey, Lance, you’re so terrible at winning bets and also I’m better than you at everything, and Allura totally likes me more than you, so there!’. 

Lance paused. Pidge and Hunk remained silent. He cleared his throat again.

“U-Uhm, okay, so we got to the end, but we had both eaten about the same amount, which meant there wasn’t really a way to determine who was the definitive winner!” Lance stressed, he waited a moment before he opened his mouth and proceeded to speak in the quietest voice he could muster, “So, I ate Keith.”

Hunk quickly interjected, “Wait, wait, hold on a second, because it sounded like you just said that you ate Keith.”

Lance responded by staring blankly at Hunk. He tried his best to look innocent, but couldn’t help but wince as a loud glworp groaned from his belly, stretching out across a few seconds.

“What the hell, Lance!?” Pidge and Hunk cried in unison.

“Guys, guys, I know what you’re thinking, but trust me, Keith is totally safe in here!” Lance stressed, a hand now resting on the top of his stomach. “Besides, what was I meant to do? Not win? That’s exactly what Keith wanted!” 

“You can’t just eat someone!” Hunk exclaimed, leaning down to stare rather pointedly at Lance’s stomach. “That’s what you do to food, and Keith isn’t food!” 

“Well he might as well be,” Lance uttered in a quiet, contemptuous tone, glancing to the side. 

“You know what? I’m not dealing with this,” Pidge said with some sense of finality. The other two paladins looked up as Pidge lifted her hands in a gesture of complete and utter finality. She began to return to her seat on the bridge. “You guys do whatever you want, but I’m telling you now, Shiro will not be happy when he learns about this.”

Both paladins watched as Pidge left. Without a positive influence to steer the situation into more agreeable waters, Hunk quickly shrugged off his initial shock.

“Y’know, it’s kind of… interesting,” Hunk said, poking a finger into Lance’s padded belly, who looked a little taken aback by the invasion of his personal space, until Hunk continued, “…He’s really all in there?”

Lance grinned. “Yeah! I mean, it was a little tough to stomach him, but hey, that’s Keith in a nutshell!”

A chorus of laughter, Pidge shot the two guys an annoyed look from across the room.

Bracing his hands against either side of his belly, while Hunk held the milkshake, Lance continued to speak with renewed confidence, “No, but really, I have to keep reminding myself that a whole person is in here! It’s kind of weird, but also pretty cool!” He said, gesturing for the milkshake. Hunk looked at the drink, before handing it over.

“Are you sure Keith doesn’t mind you drinking that?”

Lance shrugged, completely apathetic. “Who cares! It’s not like he can do anything about it!” 

This time, Hunk stared at Lance’s stomach, and quickly noticed how his stomach jostled as the guy sucked on the milkshake. He looked back up at Lance, who was just finishing the drink. He released the straw with a gasp, before glaring down at his stomach.

“Haah~! Ugh, settle down in there Keith! Y’know, you’re being a real pain? You don’t have to be such a sore loser, just because you lost!”  
The protestations within Lance’s stomach only grew even more intense.

“You’re gonna end up giving me a wicked bout of indige-Bluugh..!”

Lance groaned and clutched as his stomach, his face looking a little pale as he leaned forward a little. He looked over at Hunk and winced, furtively smoothing his hands over his belly in the hopes that his ministrations might calm it down.

“I… really think I need to lie down,” Lance replied. 

Hunk blinks. “Uh, yeah buddy. Just make sure you let Keith out at some point. You can actually do that, right? We don’t need to do some kind of freaky alien C-section, do we?”  
  
"I’ll be fine… just need to hope that I don’t run into Coran on the way back to my room,” Lance sighed, already heading towards the exit. “In a bit,” he added, lifting a hand to weakly wave at Hunk.

A few moments passed, and Hunk finally approached Pidge again, leaning over the chair. “Can you believe that just happened?” he asked, an edge of wonderment to his voice.

Pidge sighed, glancing down at her lap for a brief moment before looking back to her programming. She quickly pushed her glasses up her nose. “Sadly, yes.”


End file.
